


Morality Inconvenience

by NorthGalactic



Series: Porcelain Blue [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game), underswap
Genre: Although stretch is just called Papyrus here, Gen, Unreliable Narrator, because delft’s POV is a bit conflicted, plus he still doesn’t rly have a handle on all those usual nicknames!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 12:36:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20426090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthGalactic/pseuds/NorthGalactic
Summary: Joining the club is the easy part. Actually doing his part is another matter entirely. Or; Delft gets an assignment to cause some minor havoc. It’s... easy. Technically.





	Morality Inconvenience

**Author's Note:**

> Annnnd back with the more serious editions to this series! At least I already have a light hearted idea for the next fic of Porcelain Blue? :3 
> 
> Although hmnghhjvjvvj fight scenes... are hard.;;;

Delft was standing up straight, blatantly ignoring Killer and Dust’s kicking war beside him. Horror’s shoulders rose and fell in a silent, aggrieved sigh at his other side. 

“Every time,” Horror muttered, sounding like he was in the acceptance part of being fatally wounded. Delft exhaled slowly so he at least didn’t LOOK like he was sighing. Nightmare, back turned to them, was staring vaguely upwards as if praying for patience. Delft kind of wondered who Nightmare would pray to if he WAS praying. 

“Ahem,” Nightmare sighed, voice conversational and still turned away. Delft went even straighter, enough so that his spine almost made a cracking noise. Horror lifted slightly from his habitual slouch, too. Dust and Killer were still attempting to kick one another discreetly. 

“AHEM,” Nightmare said again, pointedly, head turning slightly. Panicking, Delft kicked Dust, who was closer, hard. Dust flailed and bumped into Killer, sending them both sprawling on the ground amidst complaints and swears. 

Delft winced. Oops. 

Nightmare sighed in front of them. 

“Really?” The dark skeleton asked the room at large. Then, apparently having enough of this nonsense, he leveled a pointed glare towards Dust and Killer, who both froze in apparent sheepishness. Delft was of the mostly-private opinion that sheepishness from either of those two nitwits was to be considered suspect automatically. 

Nightmare appeared as though he regretted every instant that had led to him standing here, just a little. Delft tried to stand up straighter, as if to make up for Dust and Killer’s behavioral shortcomings. Horror just looked like he wanted to die if only to put himself out of his own misery. 

“Are you all quite done?” Nightmare asked, voice going dark with annoyance. Delft’s soul quivered just a little at the sound, and he had to force himself to remain perfectly still. 

Dust, picking himself back up off the ground, kicked Killer one last time. 

“Of course, Nightmare! You know us, always ready to get down to business-“

“I do know you, which is why I question myself, constantly, as to why I allow you to remain,” Nightmare interrupted flatly. 

Dust promptly deflated like a popped balloon, and Killer looked vaguely smug about it. Delft was too wired up to truly observe and more deeply analyze the byplay. Killer’s expression suddenly pinched, and the quiet thwack that sounded in the silence revealed that Dust must have stealthily hit him again. 

“Anyways,” Nightmare finally continued after a moment more, rolling his eye. The older skeleton turned to face Delft, “I’m sending you on a mission.” 

Delft’s sockets widened. HIM? Delft?! 

“R-right!” He nodded quickly, trying to ignore how Horror was watching him out of the corner of his eye. It took a surprising amount of effort to not instantly babble promises of success. 

He was, Delft realized with a faint thrill of terror, genuinely nervous about being on his first assignment for Nightmare. 

Nightmare smirked, and that terror was now mingling intimately with acute mortification because oh, right, that was kind of Nightmare’s deal; sensing negative emotions and all that wahoo. Delft had now officially joined Horror in wanting to die even for vastly different reasons, but lesson well learned. 

Nightmare watched Delft squirm a moment longer before eventually continuing. 

“Yes,” He announced in that smooth, almost cultured voice of his. “I have a specific Underswap AU I’d like to have messed with. Dream has recently taken a particular liking to it. Of course, if you aren’t up to the task-“

Delft, unable to help it, almost lurched forward desperately. 

“I-I can do it! Just tell me what you want done,” He begged. Nightmare smirked, the motion slow and languid. 

“I want the local Papyrus killed. You’re going to do it for me.” 

Delft stared at Nightmare, eye lights shrinking to white, tiny little pinpricks. 

“... I’m sorry, I’m supposed to what?” He asked distantly, almost certain he may have possibly misheard Nightmare. The dark skeleton shrugged. 

“Dream’s cozying it up with the skeleton brothers of that AU. It’s... disgustingly sweet. I want you to ruin it for him.” 

There was a tense pause. Nightmare’s one visible eye turned hard and impossible to read. 

“Unless you believe you can’t do it.” 

Delft hastily shook his head in the negative. 

“N-no, no I absolutely can, I swear! I’ll get it done, prompt and everything,” he swore passionately. 

“Hm. Yes. Quite,” Nightmare agreed vaguely, sending Delft one last look before turning away dismissively. 

“You have a week to take care of it before I consider this a failure. I suggest being quick about it.” 

“Yes, sir!” Delft said, voice strangled with shock at being given such a short time limit, and then he promptly skedaddled out. 

That was how Delft found himself pacing restlessly just a couple of hours later in the forest outside of Snowdin. It wasn’t HIS forest, although it was essentially identical in nearly every way. The puzzles stationed in the area were a little different — less dangerous. Delft wondered if maybe the Royal Guard of this Underswap were focusing primarily on capturing over killing humans, for whatever reason. Or maybe they were taking precautions after an accidental dusting. Whatever the actual reasons were, it threw a wrench into Delft’s first plan of action. 

(Or, rather, it was more Delft’s SECOND plan. The first was... a bit distasteful. Delft found he probably wasn’t going to be much for a direct assault, probably. But this was fine; he had seven days to figure this all out. Still...)

“I could just... kill him,” Delft offered out loud, needing to hear it be said where only the trees and the snow were there to hear him. This wasn’t without merit; Sans — that is, he, Delft, his name was Delft now — knew that this was the simplest and most logical way to simply deal with it. The... Native Papyrus, that would work... Was an obstacle to be overcome. No more, no less. Delft couldn’t trick himself into consciously projecting his emotions towards his brother against the Native Papyrus, and Delft had spent the better part of an hour trying to do so. But the monster was still A Papyrus, so perhaps Delft would be overcome with rage and... go in for the kill. Or something. 

Maybe. 

Hopefully?

But the fact of the matter is, Delft couldn’t count on that, and he had seven days to get over this bout of... moral squeamishness. Or else, as Nightmare had so bluntly put it, his first assignment on Nightmare’s behalf would be deemed a complete and total failure. 

Delft did NOT do failure. EVER. 

So. How to proceed? Delft took a deep breath before exhaling slowly, leaning against a tree as he thought and absently tapped the wood. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

There were plenty of variations of individual Papyruses spread through out the Multiverse. This was a fact, plain and simple, and easily gathered from the lengthy amount of time that both Horror and Killer had spent debating the very subject with Dust only occasionally inserting himself. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Delft could... think of it as a puzzle, perhaps. Hasten the process of disassociating the concept of killing the Native Papyrus from the idea of killing a person. Both were one and the same, of course... but it would be infinitely easier if Delft could disentangle those two thoughts. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

The real problem, however, wasn’t just Delft’s morality being called into question. It was... Well... Frankly, and this was the embarrassing and utterly humiliating truth of the matter, but Delft didn’t want to gain LV. It was perhaps silly and childish when Nightmare, Dust, Horror and Killer were all uniquely talented, confessed and proud murderers in their own rights, but that was the plain truth that Delft found himself facing. 

Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap. 

Delft would, perhaps, have to get... CREATIVE. Supremely creative, even. And if Delft’s suspicions were wrong about just how the gaining of LoVe worked, well... no harm, no foul. Delft just wouldn’t have to debate with himself for so long next time. And considering that Delft was finally beginning to grasp that Nightmare could be a great deal more ruthless and cutting than he typically allowed himself to be seen in his castle (sending Delft after a Papyrus for his first mission WAS pretty cold, after all!), Delft knew it was only a matter of time before there most certainly was a next time. 

And so, Delft would have to harden his soul and figure something out. 

Delft had a time limit of seven days. For the remainder of the first day he arrived, he thought and debated very seriously with himself over what he was and wasn’t willing to do. It wouldn’t do for Delft to decide in the middle of executing an action that it was just a step too far for himself to handle, after all, and at least this way he could figure out some of his personal Hard Murderous No’s without stumbling across them by accident. 

For the second day, Delft spent it doing reconnaissance. It was difficult to stealthily teleport around without Dream noticing since, like Nightmare had mentioned mostly-offhandedly, the almost literal embodiment of positivity was hanging around the AU. Dream would most certainly notice someone who wasn’t a native to this universe teleporting themselves at this close proximity. On the bright side, it was easy to find a discarded burgundy hoodie. 

This is what Delft did; he tugged on the too-large hoodie, tightened and adjusted his scarf over his face until only his eyes were visible, and he set out for Snowdin from his tiny little hideaway in the woods on the second day. 

This is what Delft found; no superbly diligent Guard. It was as though they didn’t treat the Royal Guard seriously, and the tiny piece of Delft who was still Sans burned furiously that they could have something he’d wanted so badly only to be so dismissive once having it. 

There was no hyper diligent Native Sans scurrying here and there for this self-assigned mission or that. No publicly slacking Papyrus — Native Papyrus, that is — wandering around vaguely, stinking of smoke and alcohol with dark smudges under his sockets. 

There wasn’t even the hint of a fight brewing or some unseen tension in the rest of Snowdin; no awkward atmosphere or half-hearted shrugs between residents, as if to make up for hearing something private they would rather not have heard at all. 

It was... maddening, to put it mildly. 

Delft found himself flat footed; it was like being in his home AU, except everything had been subtly moved an inch to the right or something like that. Just upsetting enough to catch an unwary visiter off guard, but not upsetting enough to be worth breaking his cover just to rage at it. The differences weren’t even fascinating to observe because Delft didn’t currently possess the luxury of time to parse through every single detail he came across. 

Delft had to retreat after only a half day without having gained much relevant information. They didn’t even have Grillby’s in Snowdin, they had Muffet. Muffet!! And she was running her bar, in Snowdin! It was ridiculous! Who heard of a spider monster running a bar in the snow?!

Incidentally, Delft spent several hours raging about how ridiculous everything was deep within Snowdin forest and kicking trees at loud and vehement length. 

The third day, Delft was much better acclimated and prepared for the almost lackadaisically relaxed atmosphere of Snowdin. He even caught sight of his alternate self rambling excitedly with what appeared to be genuinely happy stars shining for eyes. His companion was who could only be Dream, who appeared to be looking fondly on the alternate Sans and interjecting much more calmly every now and then. 

Delft couldn’t help but grimace at the sight, relieved his scarf hid most of his expression. Honestly... who was ever that expressive without faking it in some way? 

(Delft remembered the versions of the Underswap Sanses that the others had mentioned back in Nightmare’s castle and barely repressed a shudder. Ugh... if he never met any of THOSE types, it would still be too soon to recall they existed.)

It took a couple more hours of discreetly staking out that old, familiar house in Snowdin before Sans — no, Delft, Delft! He absolutely HAD to keep that straight in his head! — caught sight of a familiar orange hoodie-wearing figure. 

It wasn’t quite the exact shame of orange (this was darker), nor was the hoodie design absolutely the same, and the brown cargo pants weren’t very much like Delft’s older brother’s tight-fitting jeans, but the Native Papyrus still had his brother’s carefree grin. The reappearance of that stupid expression made Delft grit his teeth furiously, a snarl working its way to his face. 

He suddenly had a lot less issues with ending the life of this monster, even if Delft would still prefer not to gain LV over it. 

On the fourth day, Delft really started getting to work. He broke the thin layer of ice that had begun to cover the river near the deepest parts of the forest, only a little ways off from the Ruins. The fact that enough time had passed for ice to gather, unbroken, showed that this was a seldom traveled section of the Underground, and thus perfect for Delft’s purposes. Delft couldn’t use bones since they were materialized by his magic and would this count as “him” killing the Native Papyrus, but... 

Well. The environment could be plenty dangerous, if one used it right. 

Delft littered the area with sharp rocks and broken sticks and ice shards. Even if each item only dealt out a single hit point upon impact, it would be the same as if Delft had used a bone attack, so it didn’t really matter how much damage was dealt as long as it COULD be dealt. Either way, by the end of the day... 

Papyrus would be dead — LV gain or no. 

“Excuse me? Mr. Papyrus?” 

Delft stared up at the skeleton, barely managing to refrain from making a face. It took EFFORT to make his voice so soft and vulnerable sounding like this, and it was just humiliating to play the guise of a young monster. At least the hoodie would make anyone think he was simply wearing stripes underneath. Delft did, however, absolutely draw the line at doing something as stupid as childishly reaching over and... and tugging on the other’s hoodie, or something. 

“Huh? Don’t think I’ve seen you around, kiddo,” the gangly skeleton said with some surprise, staring down at Delft amiably enough. 

“I’m-I’m from Waterfall,” Delft said in the slight, wavering sort of voice that was hopefully as common to the native Waterfall inhabitants in this AU as it was back in his own. It must have been, thankfully, because Papyrus didn’t give Delft any strange looks for the accent. 

“Yeah? That a pretty cool place,” Papyrus said in a gentle sort of voice, and Delft wondered if the other skeleton had taken the stutter as a sign of shy hesitance. It was embarrassing, but it could only serve his purpose if so.

“I-I lost something in the woods. Can you help me?” Delft stared imploringly up at the monster, trying to convey as much hopeful earnestness as possible. He really didn’t want to have to resort to attacking the taller skeleton brother in his home, but he would have to if Papyrus refused since he seemed to seldom enter the forest. Luckily, Papyrus seemed to hesitate only a moment before nodding, tugging his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. 

“Sure thing, kid. Lead the way, won’t ya?” 

Delft nodded early, taking the lead. Papyrus followed along lazily, seeming calm and collected every time Delft looked back at him to make sure he was still following. 

Every step away from Snowdin and away from other monsters sent Delft’s soul pounding in his ribs; it was all he could do to keep from jumping at every little noise or being anymore jittery than Delft already was. At this point, it was all that Delft could do to keep his bones from rattling with poorly suppressed anxiety. When they finally reached the clearing by the river with its stones and sticks and ice, Delft finally spoke. 

“I’m-I’m sure I lost my item around here!” He announced thinly with a genuine stutter. 

Papyrus sighed behind him, sounding a little amused. 

“Hey, man. It’s just the two of us now, so... how about we quit with the charades, huh?”

“... What?” Delft twitched, slowly pivoting on his heel to stare at Papyrus blankly, a thousand protests of his innocence at the tip of his tongue. Papyrus tapped his own skull lightly, pointing at his sockets with an air of slight amusement. 

“Kid, I’d be a real numbskull if I couldn’t recognize my own brother’s eyes.” 

.... Ugh. 

UGH!

THAT was what gave Delft away?! What kind of convulsed logic was that?! Who even paid attention to that sort of thing! 

Still, the jig was clearly up, so Delft gave a sigh but acquiesced and took down the hood hiding his head, loosening his scarf so it slid from his face and revealed his slightly scowling expression. Papyrus theatrically whistled, making him scowl worse. 

At least Papyrus had waited until they were actually HERE. It would be his undoing, of course, but still! Delft was only limited from doing teleportation and bone attacks. This had the potential to be FUN. 

It could be like fighting Alphys all over again, that energizing rush of fighting for victory and respect bubbling up in his chest at the promise of violence-

Delft felt his scowl melt away as a small grin began to form on his face. 

“Aw, well... I’m kinda amazed I lasted this long, really, but I guess there’s nothing to be done about it!”

“That’s the spirit,” Papyrus said with a cheery grin and dismissive shrug, but Delft could see the caution in his posture and the subtle shifting of his legs. Not as much of an idiot as he seemed, then. That was fine; stupid opponents were easy, and Delft never did things the easy way. 

His left eye light became an electric blue while the other went dark; Delft’s already existent grin became wide and gleeful. 

“So, hey,” Delft said, rolling his neck with a loud crack. “Let’s just get to the point, okay?” 

“No witty banter?” Papyrus asked sharply — ha! — with a terse smile. 

Delft chuckled easily. 

“Oh, I’m full of witty banter. Just not for you; something about you just gets under my skin, you know?”

Papyrus snorted, but he didn’t seem very amused. 

“Oh, I could say the same about you, buddy.”

It was Delft who threw the first metaphorical punch, the only warning Papyrus received being the heaviness of his soul being turned blue before a rock hit him square in the forehead. It ate up precisely one hit point since it was an inanimate object. 

There was a long, incredulous silence. Delft allowed it, basking in the surprised disbelief on the other skeleton’s face. 

“... Are you kidding me? All of this, to throw a rock at me? Kid, that’s gotta be the lousiest prank I’ve ever heard of,” Papyrus said with fervent sincerity. Delft wasn’t sure if his brother’s counterpart actually believed this, but he shrugged anyways and stuffed his hands in the hoodie’s pockets. 

Heh. Delft was beginning to understand why so many of his counterparts wore hoodies, if this was what it was like. 

“Sorry to, uh, disappoint you? But I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you since you can consider that a warning blow; that was just to see if I COULD hit you like this.” 

Delft’s grin turned sharp and mean as several branches and stones lifted into the air. 

“I just didn’t want to get LoVe if I didn’t have to,” he confessed, and Papyrus’ eyes went wide before he sent an orange bone attack at Delft. 

He casually walked through it, quirking an eyebrow.

“You might want a little more originality,” He chided, sending several rocks at Papyrus. The taller skeleton quickly sidestepped them all except for one, which took the other’s HP down another point. 

The taller skeleton grimaced. 

“You’re... pretty accurate,” He said, as if stalling. Delft tilted his head; he was following the Underground rules of engagement so far by allowing them to take turns, but if Papyrus was stalling he might have to break them. 

“Are you really spending your turn to chat?” He couldn’t help but ask curiously. Papyrus shrugged. 

“Well, I would really like to know why you’re doing this,” Papyrus confessed easily. 

Delft couldn’t see any harm in answering a dead monster’s questions, so he gave a careless shrug and spoke. 

“My boss really wanted to fuck with Dream,” he said cheerfully. Papyrus’ eyes narrowed. 

Oh. Ohh, now THAT was a pretty familiar look; something about that answer had most certainly annoyed Papyrus. Was he perhaps already fond of the Guardian of Positivity? 

Still, it was Delft’s turn; he took the opportunity to curiously Check the other monster’s HP. 

33/35. Well then. Perhaps this AU’s Papyrus actually had a reason to stall; that was a decent bit lower than Delft’s older brother’s HP of 80, after all. He ended up laughing somewhat incredulously. 

“I expect that kind of low number from Sanses, but YOU? Geez, that’s just sad!” 

Looking annoyed, Papyrus quickly Checked Delft right back and visibly choked. 

“O-one?! Are you kidding me? ALL of your stats are ONE?!” 

Delft winked to see if that would throw Papyrus further off his game. It didn’t seem to, so oh well. 

“One’s just my number, and I pull it off swell.” 

He sent a large branch aimed at Papyrus’ head, waited for the other skeleton to regain his balance and prepare his own attack, and then Delft promptly broke the rules of engagement by attacking again. 

Papyrus swore, teleporting out of range of the wave of ice shards sent after him while the faint heaviness of gravity manipulation began to seep into the clearing. Delft dodged the returning bone wave, this attack actually hard enough to require Delft to actually turn himself blue just so he could actually jump over it to dodge. 

After that, neither party really spoke beyond barked or half-formed swears and the occasional attempt by Papyrus to show Mercy. The attempts just made Delft furious, and he redoubled his efforts to trickle down the other’s HoPe; he was already mad at having to look into his brother’s face, but the uncharacteristic show of mercy from someone wearing his brother’s face just made it enraging. 

Luckily, this AU’s Papyrus seemed as if he was beginning to become exhausted, as evident by the sheen of sweat on his skull and his heavier breathing. 

Delft wasn’t even smiling anymore; this had ceased to be fun when Papyrus’ HP had reached 20, and by 15 it was just annoying. Now, at 6, it was... an incredible hassle. Especially since Papyrus had almost gotten lucky enough to hit him a few time. 

“C-c’mon,” Papyrus gasped after another dodge, leaning against a tree. Delft was half surprised the other monster hadn’t attempted to run, but maybe he was afraid that Delft would go after someone else from Snowdin. The idea of his self serving brother being so self-sacrificing was enough for him to grit his teeth with incredible annoyance. 

“C’mon,” Papyrus repeated, holding out his arms. Delft could be sure, but he could have sworn they were shaking with exertion. “This — all of this — whatever your Boss has promised you, pal, it can’t be worth it!” 

“I really don’t think that you’re in the position to bargain for my loyalty,” He said disdainfully, almost instinctively sending out a bone attack at the last second, wanting so badly to smack off that stupidly understanding expression. 

“I’m not,” Papyrus admitted easily. “Oh... h-heh... oh, I am DEFINITELY not in that kind of... hah... position, or anything... but... c’mon, kiddo-“ 

“I’m NOT a kid!” Delft finally snapped peevishly.

“-man,” Papyrus corrected as though he hadn’t spoken, “you even said you don’t want to gain LV! Just... stop attacking me, and... well, we can work something out.” 

Delft was self-aware enough to admit that, for an impossible second, he was tempted. 

The truth that he kept repeating to himself was he DIDN’T want to gain LV, not at all. Expanding on that desire, Delft wanted to go back to Nightmare’s castle and find something he was better suited to. He wanted to be listening with exasperation as the others fought childishly. He wanted- 

But. 

That was Papyrus’ mistake. He always assumed — both of them — that he was driven solely by wants. Maybe in some ways that could be considered true, because ambitions were so closely tied with personal desires. And yet... 

Delft recalled how it felt to be the singular focus of Nightmare’s intrigue. How it had felt to realize just how vast everything outside his perspective was, the realization of how little he truly knew. Delft remembered the anxiety he had felt at being introduced to the other’s in Nightmare’s castle, and the cursory suspicion he’d faced before the inevitable acceptance, because what Nightmare said went. 

Maybe, in another life or timeline, Delft might have lowered his arms. He would give a big, gusty sigh, and a reluctant grin, because he was pretty exhausted himself with his low stats doing nothing for his health, and Delft would laugh himself into hysteria and be unable to explain just what he found so funny even to himself. 

But this wasn’t that life or timeline, and Delft hid the tremors that ran up his arm with the expertise of well-honed practice. It was weird, but Delft almost thought that in that other lifetime that could have been, he and Papyrus might have even managed to be friends. It was hard to imagine, and it made the tremors in his arms shake more violently while his soul cringed and quivered preemptively, but Delft managed to send Papyrus a tired grin with his next attack of sticks being swept through the air. 

“Sorry,” he called out, “but I’m kind of a one trick pony! Switching sides would just be TACKY this late in the game.” 

Papyrus wheezed a laugh and lost a point for his trouble. 

5/35 HP. 

Papyrus sent a wild wave of orange and blue at him, and Delft almost tripped over his feet uncharacteristically to dodge. 

The next rock almost caused a dusty crack to run across Papyrus’ skull. 

4/35 HP. 

Papyrus wasn’t using a Gaster blaster; Delft wondered if he even could, but Delft supposed the other skeleton likely couldn’t if he hadn’t already. Delft, more and more tired as the fight progressed, almost tripped right into a bone. 

Papyrus dodged the next attack. 

Delft almost teleported to dodge before remembering himself, grimacing tiredly as he sent ice chunks after Papyrus. He hit the other skeleton this time by complete accident when he dodged. 

3/35 HP. 

And then it was 2/35, and... 1/35. 

It was kind of funny, but... they were actually tied, now. The thought made Delft giggle at the thought under his breath. It was a rare treat indeed to see an opponent with HoPe anywhere near his own, even if it was from combat. 

Delft was dodging, sliding to the right, and didn’t notice the attack sneaking up until it was too late. He inhaled sharply, eyes suddenly wide open and alert- 

It hit, tripping him and sending Delft sprawling in the snow. 

A beat passed. And then two. There was the soft, methodically slow crunch of snow accompanying the sound of Papyrus approaching. Delft couldn’t breathe. 

Why wasn’t he turning to dust? 

Standing above him, Papyrus gave a long, slow sigh through what sounded like his nasal cavity. He almost sounded a little sad. 

“Kid, if I wanted you dead, I’d have tried a lot harder,” He murmured empathetically. Right — intent was everything in an attack for a monster. And... If a blow were to hit someone without the intent to hurt or kill... “Can’t we forget all of this and go home? I bet my bro would be pretty psyched about having a new buddy to pal around with, you know.”

In that moment, Delft had never hated kindness more. 

It burned, the sympathy and pity practically radiating off this AU’s Papyrus. It burned like very few things ever had before. The Papyrus of this AU mentioning his brother so casually with such obvious affection burned even worse, because Delft... could have, perhaps, mistaken the voice for his own brother, if he kept his eyes closed. 

It BURNED, because it was so, so familiar and for a second Delft couldn’t breathe, he was that fifteen year old kid fresh out of stripes waiting for his big brother to get home to ask eagerly about his day- 

Delft found himself realizing with a distant sort of knowing that he couldn’t ever forgive this Papyrus for making his mind wander back to those times. 

Papyrus never saw the final blow come, and Delft almost wasn’t aware of sending that final rock careening towards Papyrus, but hit it did and they were both very, very aware of the impact. The taller skeleton staggered under the force of the blow, almost immediately dropping to a knee. 

Delft opened his eyes, relieved, because it absolutely had to be over by now. 

The disappointment on the other’s face was a welcome balm in its familiarity. 

“... Well. I... can’t say I expected that,” Papyrus sighed, something inexplicably heavy in his voice. Delft shrugged, sitting up to sit cross-legged. Papyrus’ body was beginning to flake away, drifting to the snowy floor lazily like fine ash. 

“You put up a good fight,” Delft complimented, regardless. Papyrus chuckled, sounding as if it hurt to do so. 

“Yeah..? Heh... well... You know how it goes, h-huh... when you’ve got something to protect..?” 

Delft opened his mouth to respond, but there was no point. All that was left to listen was a pile of dust. He wondered if he was supposed to feel so numb. It didn’t really feel like a victory, like he would feel when he won a match against Alphys. Delft stared down at the dust. Papyrus... that is, the target’s hoodie and his dust was all that remained. He wondered, absently and delayed, whether or not he should try and hide the evidence of the fight that had occurred here. If Delft should throw the target’s dust and hoodie into the river to cover up the remains. 

... No, he decided after a moment. The objective was to upset Dream, and Dream couldn’t be upset to full effect if he didn’t truly understand what had happened. Delft readied a teleport, needing the few minutes this would take before he was gone to simply breathe. 

This... really wasn’t much like the triumphant exhaustion he would feel when beating Alphys at all, was it? 

“Something to protect, huh?” He echoed the target’s words, feeling like something had, perhaps, slid into place with the thought. Perhaps Delft could spend an afternoon or two figuring out what it was he could hope to protect. 

...He hadn’t gained LV from taking out the target. Maybe the feeling of victory was just slow on the uptake. 

Delft ended up sitting there in contemplative silence the remainder of his time in the AU. 

When Delft reappeared in the castle, it was dark and quiet. The darkness wasn’t any particular surprise, but the quiet was. Delft walked through the halls silently, feeling like a ghost from human stories on such things. It didn’t take long to find Nightmare; Nightmare also appeared to have been waiting, however, so perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Nightmare found Delft. 

“You only had a couple of days left,” Nightmare said conversationally after a moment of quiet, peering down at Delft with something like interest in his voice. Delft wondered what Nightmare could parse out through his emotions. 

It was probably a good thing that Nightmare was an expert at that kind of thing, because not even Delft knew what he was feeling.

“... Yeah.” He sighed heavily after a moment. 

“Did you succeed? Or did you return preemptively to report your failure to accomplish your mission?” Nightmare asked, sounding more interested in the answer than the result. Delft wondered if maybe that was true. It would make sense. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Nightmare got a small smirk like he always did at being called sir, though it faded remarkably fast into neutral curiosity. 

“And yet I can see you haven’t gained LoVe.” 

Delft nodded, casting a long look down the shadows which stretched endlessly across the lengthy hallways. 

“I used the environment,” he explained quietly. “I wanted to know if I could successfully kill someone without gaining any LV if I didn’t kill them with my magic.” 

“I see that this experiment of yours was a success as well as your original task,” Nightmare said approvingly, seeming fascinated at the subject. Delft couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity, wondering if Nightmare would perhaps test this out for himself at some point. 

Delft quirked a wry, tired smile. 

“Well, it probably could have gone by smoother if I hadn’t been so stubborn.” 

Nightmare chuckled, his voice almost coming across as sensual among with its usual cultured smoothness. 

“Perhaps... perhaps. As it is... well. Congratulations on completing your first assignment for me, Delft.” 

He flushed, cheekbones warming with blue magic. 

“I, uh... y-yeah... you’re welcome.” 

Nightmare began to walk away with a laugh, leaving Delft to stand there with a blue face in the dark hallway. 

“I’m sure I’ll be relying on your continued good work in the future.” 

It sounded like both a threat and a promise.


End file.
